


Sharing Peace And Quiet

by Demon Dreams (ScribeAzari)



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Gen, Jack pov, exploring his character, he care, he collect, he support, some hurt comfort, ties into Lost and Found
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 11:33:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18520639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribeAzari/pseuds/Demon%20Dreams
Summary: Down in the sewers, Jack knows he's lost quite a lot, but he prefers to make the best of what he has now, and to share that with someone who cares.





	Sharing Peace And Quiet

It was quiet, in the sewers. Perhaps it had once reeked, but recalling what smell could have been was… difficult, his mind sliding off it like ink from pipes. No matter. Learning his way around without sight had been difficult, but this was his safe place, and he didn’t feel at all threatened or rushed. It hadn’t taken long to find that he could feel where things were from the ripples in the ink and vibrations from objects around him. At least, if it had been long, he didn’t know it.

There were a lot of things he didn’t know, now. He was faintly aware that he’d known a lot more, before, but thinking back just fogged his mind with pain and bewilderment. He wasn’t sure it really mattered now, anyway. He had his peace and quiet, and he had his collection. Every so often, something drifted down to him with the ink. Things like cans of some weight, or opened empty ones – he liked to stack these in little nooks, feeling the structures he could make and patiently rebuilding them when they fell.

Other little windfalls also brought a drippy smile to his face, like soggy heaps of paper he could squish, pull apart or build up into shapes. He found it made quite nice bedding, helping to insulate him against the cold. Hats were his favourite – they were something he could wear to make him feel like more of a real person. He hadn’t actually found the one he as wearing, though – Sammy had given it to him.

Though he didn’t remember much about the smooth-voiced fellow, he knew they’d worked together in some way, and he always looked forward to hearing his footfall approaching. It was like having a friend, he mused. He liked to hold that thought in his mind, feeling every aspect of it as he would with a found thing with an interesting shape. It gave him a sense of warmth, of peace. Even down here, even as ruined as everything was and even though he was very much reduced, someone valued him.

It was Sammy who’d reminded him that his name was Jack, too. That was anther precious thought to take out of its box and bask in whenever he felt low. He had a name. He was an individual, a person. He wasn’t just one more lurching, near-voiceless blob, nor just one more screaming fragment in the puddles. He was  _someone._

That was hard to remember,  sometimes, when the howls thrummed through his entire form, when he could hardly think, when he couldn’t tell what was real. Focusing as much as he could on these thoughts helped. Running them through his mind again and again as he ran his hands over the reassuring textures of his collection, and listening to Sammy’s voice if he was there, it all helped him to stay solid. He usually needed a while afterwards to relax, just rubbing his precious things over and over again for a sense of safety and reality.

It wasn’t always Jack who needed support, however. Sometimes, when Sammy visited, he could tell that he was fidgety, bothered by something. He could hear it in his voice, too. Often, all he really had to do was provide a friendly, listening ear. He didn’t always understand what Sammy was talking about, but he could understand how he was feeling and offer him little pats, soft understanding noises, or perhaps a hug.

Usually, this seemed to help, and he felt warmer for it, pleased to be able to make any kind of difference. When Sammy still didn’t seem soothed, Jack had one more trick up his sleeve – not that he had sleeves. If his collection could soothe  _him,_ maybe it could help Sammy too? When he felt that Sammy was in particular need, he gently encouraged him to hold the objects Jack’d collected, to feel them and ground himself.

It didn’t tend to work immediately, but gradually the tension drained, and Jack felt a warm sense of satisfaction and accomplishment even before Sammy thanked him or expressed his appreciation through pats. They were quite different in the eyes of the studio, but at heart they had quite a lot in common. A kinship of sorts, and one he hoped Sammy valued as much as he did.


End file.
